


Who Else Could You Ask?

by MyBloodyUnicorn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Female Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 04:13:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyBloodyUnicorn/pseuds/MyBloodyUnicorn





	Who Else Could You Ask?

Jody taps her phone to end the call and looks at the list of names and numbers on the back on an envelope: _Melanie. Becky. Krissy._

Garth had already filled her in on a few of the details. Krissy was the daughter of a hunter and might be impossible to track down. Melanie worked as a psychic in upstate New York somewhere. And Becky... Garth had almost sighed her name. Becky lived in Delaware. She was smart and helped them catch a crossroads demon that was making bad deals. She had blonde hair, he said, and a pretty smile and green eyes.

 _Green as a pack of Doublemint,_ he’d said. From anyone else it might have been an odd remark but Garth was, well, _Garth_.

Something in the back of Jody’s memory prickles.

_Becky... Becky... didn’t Sam tell me about a girl named Becky? What did he call her?_

She decides to call Becky first.

“Hi, this is Becky!” The recorded voice is high-pitched and a little squeaky. “Leave me a message and I’ll call you back! Bye!”

“Hi, Becky, this is Sheriff Jody Mills. I’m friends with Sam and Dean Winchester. There’s a demon—”

She grits her teeth rather than say Crowley’s name aloud.

“—that’s been going around, revisiting the boys’ old cases in order and making trouble. Call me back and let me know you’re okay.” She rattles off her cell phone number, hangs up, then calls the other two women on the list.

Krissy’s number is disconnected, no surprise there. Melanie is alarmed to hear the news but insists she is fine and that she will call Garth if she suspects anything. With that done, Jody goes about the rest of her day.

It isn’t until later when she’s watching TV with a beer and reheated leftovers that she remembers what Sam called Becky: _crazy fangirl_.

They had been drinking, swapping stories, and Sam had told Jody about being forcibly married to Becky. _So, I woke up, right? And Crazy Fangirl had, had roofied me and tied me to the bed—with no pants on, I might add..._

She had laughed at Sam’s story as he told it but now Jody frowns at the memory. Obviously someone would have to be pretty unbalanced, to put it mildly, to do something like that... but what the hell, Sam? She was still a _person_ , not just the punchline of your story.

The phone rings and she snaps back to the present to answer it. “Sheriff Mills.”

“Hi, this is Becky,” the voice on the line says. “I got your message and... I’m fine. There’s no sign of demon activity around here lately. I don’t know about back home, though. After everything that happened that time, I moved to Minneapolis; I got a new place, a new job.” Jody notices the girl doesn't mention a new boyfriend or even new friends.

A dog barks in the background. “And I got _a dog_! I didn’t forget about _you_ , silly baby,” she says. “And anyway, I’ve got a demon trap painted under the rug by my door and plenty of salt and like, a gallon of holy water —”

Jody cuts her off with a quiet laugh. “Well, it sounds like you’re prepared for anything. But if you even so much as suspect something’s going on, don’t be a hero; call someone. Do you have Garth’s number?”

“No, I... lost it,” Becky says.

Jody’s instincts tell her the girl is lying but she doesn’t press the point.

“He asked about you, you know? Garth.” He didn’t exactly, but he recalled her so fondly Jody thinks he might as well have.

“Oh...” Becky goes quiet for the first time since Jody picked up the phone. “Did he?”

“He told me your eyes were the same color green as a pack of Doublemint gum but I guess that’s just Garth, right?” Jody said.

“Yeah.” Becky sighs. “He seemed... like a really _nice_ guy that time I met him.”

Something about the way Becky says Garth was _nice_ makes Jody think of something her grandmother told her years ago. She was home from college one weekend and crying in her grandmother’s kitchen. Her boyfriend had broken up with her a month earlier without any warning. He said _maybe we should see other people_ and then stopped returning Jody’s phone calls.

Her grandmother set a square of Pepperidge Farm coconut cake and a glass of milk on the table in front of her, patted her hand, and told her _the secret to a happy relationship is to find a man who loves you just a little bit more than you love him._

At 19, Jody had been disgusted by the idea of anything but true equal love between soulmates. Now, the closer she got to 40, the more she found a certain logic to it: knowing someone will always look at you with nothing but love... once you understand that, you’ll probably do anything to not mess that up.

“You should call him," Jody says, snapping out of her thoughts, “just to catch up and say hello. I think he’d really like that.”

“Oh, I don’t, um, I don’t think I could...” Becky says.

“Becky, listen.” Jody feels herself slipping into her Mom Voice. “I know. About you and Sam.”

“Oh, God.” Becky sounds small, sad. “I just... I don’t even know how it all happened.  I look back on it now and it’s like that wasn’t even _me_. I can’t even blame Guy for talking me into it because obviously I wanted it to happen.”

Jody sips her beer and lets the young woman keep talking.

“I just still can’t believe I did that. I started seeing a therapist after all that happened and it made me realize Sam was never really _real_ to me, you know? He wasn't a real person; he was just this idea I had of him, like a blank screen that I projected all my feelings onto and it just... it spun out of control.” Her voice dwindles down to just a whisper.

Becky sniffs and clears her throat. “Anyway, I’m a different person now. Or at least I hope I am. I try to be.”

“Becky, I’m sorry.” Jody says softly. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I only brought up Sam because... because you should know, you can’t let something—even something as stupid as that—stop you from finding something else that might be good. You gotta keep reaching out because otherwise that’s not really living any more, hon.”

Jody sets her beer down, fingers plucking absently at the paper label. “I mean, look at me. My husband died and then I met _another_ man and fell in love with him and _he_ died.” She smiles to herself but her eyes still tear up. “And then once I thought I was over _that_ , I went on a date with a man who turned out to be the King of Hell and tried _to kill me, on our date..._ ”

She laughs and Becky joins in quietly. Jody rubs her nose on the back of her hand and sighs.

“I’m just saying... call him. See what happens.”

“Okay,” Becky says. “Give me his number again.” Jody waits for Becky to get a pen and then reads off the number to her.

“Wait,” Becky says. “Did you say ‘The King of Hell’? You went on a date _with_ _Crowley_?”

“Well, he told me his name was Roderick.”

“No, no,” Becky says. “I totally don’t blame you. He was kind of...  _sexy_ , right? I mean, for an old guy.”

Jody tries not to wince and just nods. “Yeah, he was pretty hot. I tell you, Becky, if I ever see him again...” She pauses a moment and smiles. “I’m going to stab him through the fucking heart.”

Becky giggles. “My therapist says it’s always good to have goals.”

For the first time in the conversation, the two women fall into an easy, relaxed silence.

“So, listen, Becky,” Jody says at last. “Like I said, anything seems weird, anything at all, just call, okay?”

“I will,” she says.

“And if you ever want to just, I don’t know, call for any other reason... feel free,” Jody says softly. “I mean, how many other women can you talk to about your terrible date with a demon?”


End file.
